Day Twenty-Five: Want to Take a Quiz?

Typically, the term “quiz” conjures up images of silent rooms, number two pencils and a teacher hovering of moulded plastic desks.  Except in Facebook.  Then a quiz becomes a chance to know yourself.  I can find out whether I am more like jelly or Nutella.  I can discover whether or not I am truly a Muppets expert.

So, I type up a 80’s music quiz.

Question 1: We built this city on . . .

a. sacred Indian burial grounds taken by conquest

b. rock and roll

c. a nuclear repository

d. gumption and fortitude

After two questions, I realize that this will be a colossal failure, given the fact that I cannot think of good multiple choice answers.  Therefore I switch to “Which Washed-Up 80’s Rock Star Are You The Most Like?”  I print up one copy and take it with me to a coffee shop.

“Hey, can you take a quiz?” I ask the barista (or is it baristo if it’s a male?)

“I can’t.  I’m working.”

“I understand.  But there aren’t any customers besides me,” I tell him.  Then I look to my daughter.  Nothing like a one year old to earn sympathy points.

“How many questions is it?”

“Ten.  That way it’s easy to score.”

He finishes the test quickly, looking up to see if a secret shopper might be lurking around the corner.  Then, after scoring it, he cries out, “Yesss . . . Rick Springfield.”

“Now you have to tell someone else,” I explain.

“I’m Rick Springfield,” he says.

“Too bad,” his co-worker says.  “He’s no Hall and Oates.”

Next step: mail off the survey to friends and then pass it out at professional development tomorrow.


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